


Gloves

by SongOfMarbule



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Glove Kink, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 12:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13481682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule
Summary: Prompto can't stop staring at Ignis' hands. Prompto can't help but think that Ignis' gloves are kinda hot. Prompto's fixation on a certain someone's clothing choice gets him into a little bit of a pinch.





	Gloves

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my entry for Day 4 of Promnis Week! The prompt was, obviously, "Gloves", and... wow, I didn't mean for this to happen, but it did. Enjoy!

Ignis Scientia. To say that the man was good looking was an understatement. To say that it was literally impossible to close your eyes, to avert your gaze from him when he was in the general vicinity was an exaggeration, but honestly, it wasn’t very far from the truth.

Ignis Scientia was, plain and simple, a distraction.

While Prompto sparred with him, Ignis’ heavy breaths were difficult to ignore. “Well done, Prompto,” he’d say, taking a moment to lean against the wall while his lungs caught up with his heart. His hair, usually sculpted with care in front of the mirror every morning, would begin to deflate, stray strands falling in his face like a veil. Sweat, glistening from the overhead lights, highlighting his perfect chiseled cheekbones, as if someone had angled the fixtures above on purpose. And then there was his chest; peeking out, juuuuust enough between the edges of his shirt collar, teasing him, and wait, was it just him, or were there more buttons unfastened than usual lately?!

And then there was the matter of his hands.

His hands were a problem.

Time and time again, Prompto caught himself staring at Ignis’ hands. He didn’t know why; it wasn’t like he had a  _ thing  _ for them or anything. He just thought they were nice to look at. Powerful yet lithe, fingers long and delicate that were capable of so many great things… it was hard not to imagine what it would be like to feel them on his body. Smooth yet rough from his duties, he bet they’d feel so gentle, so  _ good _ , sliding down his chest, his sides, his hips, his thighs...

Okay, so maybe he  _ did  _ have a thing for them. Or more specifically, his gloves. That was more confusing to him than the whole hand thing in general, but he’d be damned if he didn’t admit that the whole ‘Ignis’ hands on him’ fantasy wasn’t totally enhanced by the thought of him keeping his gloves on.

He really didn’t get it. He wore gloves on a daily basis, too, so it’s not like gloves as a whole were some kind of erotic thing. But Ignis’ hands, in Ignis’ gloves, were. For some reason. 

“Prompto, are you paying attention?” Ignis’ voice broke through Prompto’s thoughts. 

“Huh? Yeah! Yeah, of course I’m paying attention!” Prompto yelped in response.

A lie, of course. Ignis had been explaining something to him while they drove, on their way to the market in Lestallum. But while Prompto’s mind ran wild, the man’s words were a dull hum, a minimized process running in the background of his mind. He had been too busy staring. Staring at Ignis’ gloved hands. Tapping against the steering wheel as he drove, his fingers moved almost rhythmically, like he was playing a musical instrument. What Prompto wouldn’t have given to be that steering wheel right now... Wow, he couldn’t believe he was jealous. Of a  _ steering wheel _ .

This was getting out of control.

“Are you feeling all right, Prompto?” Ignis asked. “I’ve noticed you’ve been spacing out frequently as of late. Perhaps a nice, cold drink when we arrive in town is in order.”

“Y-yeah,” Prompto replied, sinking in his seat. “Might be a good idea, yeah. Probably dehydrated or something.”

Oh, he was certainly thirsty.

While Ignis continued talking, Prompto tried his best to pay attention for real this time. His heart was racing. As he pressed his knees together, it was painfully obvious that his little distraction just now had turned into something much more. Ignis’ hands were a problem, all right, and they were a problem that gave way to a rather embarrassing physical status ailment. 

A boner.

He totally had a boner right now.

_ Dammit! _

Prompto tried to appear as casual as he possibly could for the remaining duration of the drive.  He silently hoped that Ignis didn’t glance his way and notice his shame that he was struggling to quell, his secret he was trying to keep under wraps, pressing uncomfortably against the front of his pants.

It was the longest fifteen minutes of his life.

The second they parked the car in the Lestallum parking lot, Prompto immediately excused himself. He tried not to appear as urgent as he felt, but he may have walked a little brisker than normal to his destination, searching for the nearest bathroom, and  _ fast _ .

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He felt like he was in high school all over again, with his overactive, insatiable hormones that gave him so much grief. Popping random boners at the dumbest of things (like scraping a spoon in a cantaloupe - why?!) and having to sneak off somewhere to take care of business, it had always been more than just a mild annoyance. But dammit, he was twenty years old now. Wasn’t he supposed to be, y’know, over these kinds of over-the-top hormonal shenanigans at this point?

Apparently not. Not when it came to Ignis Scientia, at least.

He located a bathroom at last, one just around the corner from the marketplace. He thanked the Six that it was a private, one toilet bathroom, and the second after he locked himself inside he was over in the corner, his hands frantically undoing the zipper on his pants.  _ Pathetic. Pathetic. So stupid.  _ He couldn’t believe that he’d had to resort to this. But he was left with little choice; there was  _ no way _ he was going to be able to casually shop in the marketplace like this. He’d knock things over with his boner, probably, but more believably, he was with Ignis. He wouldn’t be able to calm down. He needed to calm down. He needed a release. He needed… Ignis’ gloved hands, on him,  _ right now _ .

But it was impossible.

They weren’t together.

Ignis had no clue how he felt about him. And it wasn’t even purely a lust thing - Prompto had a genuine crush on him for a while now, which made this strange fixation on his gloves all the worse. He felt guilty. Dirty. But whatever, right now, his logic circuits were turned off and his arousal circuits were all systems go, and he couldn’t stop the process. It was happening. He was in a random bathroom, about to jack off, and for some reason this setting made it all the more exciting. Somehow.

Pants open, Prompto quickly gathered his half-mast erection into his hand once it had been freed from the confines of his underwear. Normally, he would have made a point to remove his own gloves before doing the deed, but for whatever reason, he felt compelled to leave them on.

His mind began to wander. Would Ignis leave them on? Ignis would leave them on. Ignis  _ so would _ , and he’d take full advantage of how badly he would make Prompto want it at the mere suggestion. Prompto would beg for it, beg for Ignis to do it, dare Ignis to do it with his gloves still on his hands, even if the rough friction would cause him to squirm in pain, probably.

“I bet you wouldn’t,” Prompto could tease. “You’d insist on taking them off. Wouldn’t want to ruin a perfectly good pair of gloves, right?”

“Is that what you think, Prompto?” Ignis could reply as he backed the smaller blond up against the wall. “Perhaps you have the wrong idea about me after all.”

Prompto imagined Ignis’ long fingers around him.

Prompto imagined how it would feel, wondered how fast or slow Ignis would jack someone off.

Prompto imagined all sorts of filthy things Ignis could utter in his ear while he did all sorts of interesting things to him. 

Prompto turned around, his forehead touching the air-kissed tiles that lined the wall like a patchwork quilt. He imagined Ignis pressing against him from behind, his body smothering him, trapping him against the wall.

“Do you like that, Prompto?” Ignis could ask, voice husky, dripping with lust, breathy against the shell of his ear.

“Yes,” Prompto gasped. He could imagine it so vividly, he swore he felt the warmth from Ignis’ mouth, and it made him shudder to his core.

“Do you want something more from me?” Ignis’ voice came again in his mind.

“ _ Yes,”  _ Prompto moaned. He sure hoped no one could hear him outside, but he was starting not to care.

Soon, Prompto began having a hard time remaining upright. He imagined Ignis’ gloved hand snaking around to his front, reaching for him, seeking, gripping his cock firmly before his fingers began to work at him painfully slow. The friction of leather on skin… each drag was rough, painful, pulling his skin perhaps a bit too much, but  _ gods _ , it felt incredible. He had to stop himself from audibly shuddering as he gave himself a squeeze, imagining Ignis clicking his tongue in a teasing ‘tsk’ as he gave him what he wanted.

Prompto imagined Ignis’ hand remaining on his erection, thoroughly distracting him while the other, unoccupied hand, slid between his thighs. Lower, farther back, his arm tucking Prompto against his body as he adjusted the angle. He imagined Ignis rubbing his leather-clad fingers against his ass, slowly pressing one digit into his hole. No doubt that being fingered by a leather dick-like object, with no lube, would absolutely hurt, but Prompto was so sure that he’d be so turned on at that point he wouldn’t even care. He visualized the anatomy of Ignis’ gloves, how there was no casing for his thumbs, always bare, always showing. He imagined that thumb rubbing against his entrance, just barely penetrating him, giving him a taste of what was to come, before finally pressing in to join the other finger, and Prompto keened. He was close,  _ so close _ , and, oh  _ shit _ , he was coming.

A loud cry escaped him as he closed his hand around his cock, both as a last minute attempt to gather the mess he was about to make, and because he imagined what Ignis’ gloved hands could look like at this point. Filthy, sticky and wet with the outcome of his lust and ecstasy, dripping between his fingers and pooling on the floor beneath him.

Well, now it was all over, and Prompto’s mind was hazy.

He just jacked off thinking about gloves.

Prompto, what the  _ fuck _ ?

Scrambling to clean up, he removed his gloves and stuffed them in his pockets after giving them a quick rinse in the sink, then set off to try and find Ignis. He silently hoped that he hadn’t been gone for too long, suspiciously long, but thankfully Ignis looked preoccupied when he spotted him quickly. The man, gloved hand to his chin in thought, casually browsed a stall that sold cooking spices, no doubt trying to find something new to ‘spice up’ their meals.

“Hey, Iggy, sorry I took so long,” Prompto said as he jogged up to him. Yes. Keep it cool, Prompto. Casual.

Unfortunately for him, Ignis was observant. “Prompto, what happened to your gloves?” he asked curiously.

Oh. Right.

_ Shit. _

“Huh? My gloves?” Prompto repeated, laughing nervously. Come to think of it, it  _ did  _ feel really weird to have bare hands. “Oh, you know. I, uh. Got… soap on them by accident? Happens all the time.”

“You leave your gloves on while you…” Ignis began skeptically, quirking an eyebrow.

“N-no! Of course not!” Prompto quickly defended.

“Then how…”

Prompto mentally kicked himself. He should have thought ahead. He should have come up with a story. He shouldn’t have worn his gloves today at all. “Soap dispenser,” he murmured, pretending to be really interested in a bottle of Thyme.

“Pardon?”

“I left them underneath the automatic soap dispenser by accident. So much soap, it was like a soap avalanche. A soapalanche! Yeah. Can’t wear soapy gloves, right, ew.”  _ Whew, good save.  _ Prompto forced a smile, giving Ignis a thumbs up.

Ignis watched him, studied him. He eyed Prompto’s bare hands before he went back to browsing the stall. “I see,” he said, completely unconvinced.

Oh, gods. He knew.

_ Shit. _

Things were either going to get really awkward, or really interesting, between them from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://saturnvalleycoffee.tumblr.com). I've also got a [FFXV sideblog](http://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com), where these short stories are being cross-posted to!


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